


The Statue at the Temple

by A_F_S_M_A_S



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang Week 2021, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29571876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_F_S_M_A_S/pseuds/A_F_S_M_A_S
Summary: Bumi learns about his grandfather.Aang Week, Day 2Prompt: Family/Monk Gyatso
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	The Statue at the Temple

“What do you think, sir?”

“Lee, how many times do I have to say that you can just call me Aang?”

The young man paused awkwardly before replying, “At least one more time, sir.”

Aang shook his head with a smile before turning his attention back to the statue. Before becoming an acolyte, Lee had come from a mountain village in the Fire Nation renowned for its artistry. His father was a stonemason, his mother was a carpenter, and he had learned well from them both. It was those skills that led Aang to personally ask him to restore the statue of Monk Gyatso at the Southern Air Temple.

The stone it sat on was now free of cracks and freshly polished. The wood had been carefully oiled, the faint scent of it still in the air. The marks of a century’s worth of snow, rain, and wind were gone. The strokes of orange, yellow, and blue paint were masterful, without a single spilled drop or spot where the colors ran or bled into one another. It even looked smooth to the touch, though Aang could not bring his hand to the statue.

It had seemed so tall when he first returned to the temple with Katara and Sokka. Now he was tall enough to look the statue in the eye. When Aang suddenly thought that one day he might grow taller than the man whose image it bore, a disquiet sensation shivered through his bones.

“You’ve done an amazing job, Lee. It looks... brand new.”

* * *

“Dad?”

He had been standing in front of the statue for who knows how long, lost in thought. His almost melancholic contemplation was broken immediately by the arrival of his young son. “Bumi!”

Bumi barreled into his legs, locking his dad into a bear hug. “Whatcha doing?”

“Oh, nothing,” he replied. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking what?”

“Dad stuff.”

“Dad stuff?”

“Dad stuff galore.”

Bumi turned his head from him to the statue. “Who’s that?”

“Haven’t I told you before?”

“Probably, but I forgot.”

Aang let out a little chuckle. “This is Monk Gyatso.”

“Who’s Monk Gee-aht-soooo?”

Aang’s smile grew wider. His son had a habit of extending and dramatically mangling the syllables of words and names when he learned them for the first time. It was only natural that Monk Gyatso would receive the same treatment. “He was the best airbending master that the Southern Air Temple has ever known. He’s the master who raised me.”

Bumi tilted his head. “So, he’s my air gramp-gramp?”

Aang couldn’t help but snicker, his overwhelmed heart skipping a beat. Hakoda’s reaction to being called gramp-gramp by Bumi for the first time had turned the wise chief of the Southern Water Tribe into an emotional mess, and now the boy had done the same thing to his dad. “Yes, Bumi. He is your air gramp-gramp.”

“Would he like me?”

Aang went to one knee, wrapping his arm around Bumi’s shoulders. “He’d absolutely love you. Of course, you also would’ve reminded him of what I was like at your age, as well as your uncles Bumi and Kuzon. The three of us used to drive him nuts with all the trouble we’d get into.”

“Like I do to uncle Sokka?”

Aang laughed again, a deep chortle straight from the belly. “Yes, exactly like how you terrorize your uncle Sokka.”

Bumi looked back up at the statue. For him, it was so tall. Monk Gyatso seemed larger than life, though not as big as his dad. It was almost intimidating for the boy, but Gyatso’s statue had such a pleasant look that Bumi didn’t feel that he should be nervous around it. “What happened to him?”

Aang’s gaze fell to the ground for a moment, though he kept a smile on his face. It wasn’t a dad’s place to let his children see him get so downhearted, especially ones as young as Bumi. “Your grandfather was the hero of many stories. I’ll tell you all about them and him. Some now, and some I’ll save for when you’re older.”

Bumi frowned. “How come you and Mom always say stuff like, ‘I’ll tell you when you’re older?’ Like when I saw Aunt Toph and Aunt Ty Lee-”

“Because,” Aang interrupted, “parents have to know some secrets that their kids don’t. If they didn’t, we’d lose all our secret power.”

Bumi groaned in that frustrated way that only children can, and only when their parents say something they don’t like.

“Come on,” Aang said, rising to his feet and patting Bumi’s shoulder. “Let’s go see what mom’s been cooking up for supper.”

As his father led him away back to mom, baby Kya, Appa, Momo, and dinner, Bumi took one last curious look over his shoulder to the statue. They only had their backs to it for a few seconds, but someone else was now standing next to the statue, someone Bumi had never seen before. He was an old man surrounded in soft blue light. He had a long, pale mustache, and wore a necklace and clothes like his dad. Bumi didn’t know who the man was, but for some reason he was smiling from ear to ear at the two of them.

Then, it occurred to young Bumi that he had, very recently, seen the old man before. He would have said something to dad, but the man put a finger to his lips. Bumi recognized the funny look in the old man’s eyes as one of a prankster. He had seen that same look in his dad, his uncle Sokka, and himself in the mirror. With a silent nod of agreement to secrecy, Bumi sealed his lips shut, sharing a knowing smile with the old monk.

He would tell the story of how he met his grandfather to dad when he was older.

**Author's Note:**

> This won't be the last time I touch on our collective Gyatso feels this week.
> 
> (would anyone like to hear my secret tophlee agenda?)
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> -A.F.S.M.A.S.


End file.
